Death of the Innocent
by Darkover
Summary: The real story of how Celia died.


"Death of the Innocent" by Darkover  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from either the series "Buffy the Vampire Slayer," or from the movie of the same title. If I did, then Buffy and Giles would have been together long ago. That's right, I'm a B/G `shipper, and proud of it! So far as I know, everything Buffy-related is owned by Joss Whedon, and I am only borrowing the characters. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, so there is no need to sue.  
  
Rating: G  
  
Spoilers: Up to and including "Killed by Death." There are references to a character from the original movie.  
  
Reviews and Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated!  
  
Author's Note: *Asterisks* are used in this story to indicate emphasis. A lot of asterisks are used to indicate the passage of time—assuming that they upload properly; I found out the first time that I posted a story that italics and boldface do not upload. Words set in [brackets] are meant to be unvoiced thoughts.  
  
"Celia?" Buffy cried, frightened. Her cousin Celia was screaming, seemingly fighting something that was not there. "Celia?" Buffy, too, began to scream. "Help! Somebody! *Anybody!*"  
By the time the medical staff arrived, however, Celia was dead. And Buffy was crying bitterly.  
  
* * * * *  
  
"Is it done?" the Master inquired.  
The Kinderstod was not much accustomed to using human speech—it had no need for it—but it nodded.  
"Well done, my friend." The Master smiled. "It must have been quite a feast for you...the fear of a potential slayer. Thanks to your efforts—and mine, in locating her for you—she shall never grow up to trouble us."  
The Kinderstod bowed and made its departure.  
"Master?" Darla's voice was hesitant. As one of his favorites, he permitted her more leeway than he did most of his other minions, but the Master did not welcome the questioning of his orders by anyone at any time. "Are you certain the Potential is dead?"  
"The Kinderstod does not make mistakes when choosing a victim, Darla."  
[But sometimes *you* do,] the female vampire thought. Not being suicidal, she did not voice the thought aloud. She said instead: "Of course not, Master. But you did tell me earlier that something appeared to be interfering with your spell of location. We had to rely on eyewitness reports from other sources—"  
"Including yours. And you would not fail me, would you, my dear?" The Master turned his terrible burning gaze upon her. His long-nailed corpse's fingers twitched, as if he needed but the slightest excuse to jab out her eyes—a common form of punishment bestowed by this particular vampire lord. Had Darla been human and still needed to breathe, she might have gulped. As a vampire, Darla herself was no stripling—she had been turned close to three hundred years ago, and since then had successfully eluded all the Slayers who hunted her kind. But Darla feared the Master, and rightly so. Not only was he a very old and powerful vampire, but in life he had been a sorcerer, a master of dark magicks, hence his title. His sorcerous abilities had not lessened after his turning; indeed, as he was able to draw power from the Hellmouth, he was probably the most powerful vampire in existence. Undoubtedly the only thing that prevented him from being king of all vampires left in the world was the fact that he was, temporarily at least, trapped here. He would not be trapped forever. As an undead creature, he could afford to wait until the opportunity for his release presented itself. When he gained his freedom, all the vampires in the world would be compelled to choose to be either for him or against him—and Darla had little doubt about what would happen to those who were foolish enough to oppose him.  
"No, Master, of course not," she said quickly. [But you didn't give me much to go on. Find a little blonde girl, eight years of age, in a certain part of Los Angeles: a girl who was an only child. Your location spell would make her ill, you said, so we should look for her as a patient in a hospital. We must find her, before the Watchers did. You did not want to attract the attention of the Council through any overt vampire activity, so you sent the Kinderstod to do your work. Well, we did find the girl, or at least we found *a* girl...]  
"Then we need not concern ourselves about it," he said dismissively.  
"Yes, Master," Darla said, then hesitated. [The location spell did cease when the child died, so we probably found the right one. No sense borrowing trouble. But there is something else...] "There is just one other matter..."  
"It can hardly be more important than the destruction of a Potential Slayer."  
"No, of course not, Master, but the vampires of L.A. were not very cooperative. Most of them claim to be minions of Lothos—"  
"That upstart?" The Master seemed amused. "Has he finally decided to try the new world at last?"  
"There are rumors that he intends to claim Los Angeles as his territory, and that he may come to reside in the city in another seven or eight years." "No doubt. The greed and consumption that personify that city must appeal to him. After the Harvest, however, Lothos will have other things to worry about. He will learn just how insignificant he is in the overall scheme of things. So let him come to the new world if he will. The destruction of a Potential Slayer is of far greater importance than any plans he might have." The Master paused. "So, good hunting tonight, my dear." "Yes, Master." Darla left the tunnels. 


End file.
